A Deal with the Devil
by cullen's pet
Summary: Hermione didn't know what to expect when she was summoned to the Minister's office. She definitely didn't think that she'd be sent on the assignment of a lifetime. And she certainly didn't expect to catch the attention of the most infamous prisoner to ever grace the cells of Azkaban, Draco Malfoy. A Dramione Couple's Remix...


Disclaimer: I own neither the world of Harry Potter or The Silence of the Lamgs. I'm merely mashing up their characters and story lines. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Thomas Harris. I make no money from this story.

Summary: Hermione didn't know what to expect when she was summoned to the Minister's office. She definitely didn't think that she'd be sent on the assignment of a lifetime. And she certainly didn't expect to catch the attention of the most infamous prisoner to ever grace the cells of Azkaban, Draco Malfoy.

Warnings: Sexual themes, torture, gore, general unpleasant things, violence

A/N: This was originally written for the Dramione Couple's Remix part 2. Sadly, I couldn't submit it because it was an unfinished story. I was going to continue it into a full length story, but I decided that I'm just going to leave it as it is. The original couple is Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lector. I hope I managed to capture their characters and mesh them with Draco and Hermione. Please let me know how I did.

A Deal with the Devil

Hermione wrapped her arms around her torso, futilely trying to ward off the bitter chill. She knew that she should have worn her muggle coat, but the very nature of her visit demanded that she stick strictly to wizarding apparel. Her subject would be far less likely to cooperate with her as he was dead set against muggleborns such as herself anyways.

She pulled her robes even tighter about her person as the boat lurched and the cold spray of the sea settled into her curly, chestnut hair. She almost regretted choosing this mode of travel.

Almost.

There were only two ways to access the island that was occupied by Azkaban Prison. One: you could fly in, be it by broom, thestral, or hippogriff. Two: charter a boat and cross over by ship. As she was deathly afraid of flying, she had no choice but to go by boat. She regretted not swallowing her fears and taking to the air. The trip over the choppy sea was making her slightly nauseated as well as giving her entirely too much time to think.

She still couldn't believe that Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister himself, had chosen her for such an important task. She was still in training, still months away from graduating from the academy. It had terrified her when he'd called her into his lavish office. At first, she'd thought that maybe she was in trouble. Why else would she get summoned to the Minister's office? She quickly learned that he had a job for her. She was both humbled and proud of the fact that he'd chosen her out of all the others. She wasn't anything special. She didn't even apply for the Auror program right away like Harry had. She had spent a good seven years pushing paper through the Ministry. She'd thought that she could make more of a difference as a law maker and not a law enforcer.

She'd been wrong. She quickly became disenchanted with the miles of red tape that she always seemed to encounter. Every initiative that she'd pushed for had gotten tabled. She hadn't made a difference at all. Couple that with the fact that the good old boy network was still firmly intact and promotion was nearly impossible, she decided that a change in careers was necessary. She was merely trading water where she was at and wasting her talents. She knew that there were still many Death Eaters that had never been brought to justice. That included one Antonin Dolohov that had left the terrible scar on her abdomen. She would love to be the one to finally track him down and bring him to justice. But that still didn't explain why Kingsley thought that she was up to his task.

He then explained that she already had a dynamic established with the subject that he needed questioned and that he hoped that it would be enough to gain his cooperation. The information he held was vital to their mission to track down the rest of the rogue Death Eaters.

She'd literally lost her breath when he finally uttered the man's name in question that she was to interrogate.

Draco Malfoy.

They whispered in the academy that he'd become unhinged because of Voldemort, that when he'd finally been caught he was amidst the carnage of his own comrades, that he'd slaughtered with his own wand no less, and that he'd been dining on their entrails. It made her stomach flip with just the thought. She couldn't reconcile the image that was conjured with the boy that she'd gone to school with.

She'd tried to turn down the assignment, stating that there was nothing but animosity between her and her former classmate. Kingsley had argued back that she was the best chance they had and no matter what happened, she would get a reaction out of him. She'd always inspired some kind of rejoinder from the haughty former Slytherin, even if it wasn't the pleasant kind.

Kingsley had indicated that he'd flat refused to even acknowledge the other Aurors that he had sent so now he was resorting to baiting the man into a conversation. He felt that she could incite some sort of response from the person that Draco Malfoy had become. Hermione had reluctantly agreed to take on the task. That was how she found herself on this rickety boat in the middle of the North Sea.

Her breath quickened and whistled through her parted lips as she caught her first glimpse of Azkaban Prison. It's hulking grey structure loomed ominously through the fog like some great, giant dementor sucking any happiness from the air that surrounded it. She shuddered as the boat churned onwards toward her final destination. Although the dementors had been dismissed from their guard duty after their defection to Voldemort, their presence still lingered. It was as if their very essence had been imbedded into the stone of the massive edifice that occupied the solitary island, draining any remaining hope from its occupants.

As she disembarked, the captain reminded her of his imminent departure. "Remember, me lil' lass, I kinno wait fer ye. I mus' wait offshore a mile o' way," his gruff voice alerted her. It was unnecessary. She knew the rules.

"Thank you," she returned politely. "I'll have the guards summon you once I'm finished."

He nodded and backed the boat away from the dock. She turned her back on the cold sea, facing the gloomy prison. Taking a single deep breath, she started towards the entryway. She could do this. She would make Kingsley proud.

She stopped at the first security checkpoint. She showed her credentials and checked her wand. She was searched and her wand returned. She knew that once inside, her wand would be confiscated. She moved on into the cheerless detention center heading toward the warden's office. She wasn't especially looking forward to meeting with Cormac McLaggen again. She'd dodged him ever since her failed experience at Slughorn's Christmas Soiree.

She walked steadily toward his office at the end of the hall. She was bundle of nerves, hoping that he had matured somewhat after their school days. The last time she had been in close proximity to the man, he'd been like an octopus, his hands resembling tentacles as he'd suctioned them to her body. This would prove to be a very awkward encounter if he retained any of his adolescent tendencies.

She checked in with his secretary and she wasn't impressed. If anything, the curvaceous blond made Hermione think that the man hadn't changed at all. She sat in the stiff chair waiting for the man to show himself. She was rather irked that she had to wait at all. She had an appointment and she was punctual. She was Hermione Granger after all; she didn't do late.

She looked up when his office door opened, fifteen minutes after the scheduled time. She stood as he greeted her.

"Hermione Granger," his voice was as oily as she remembered. No doubt that he still considered himself to be a ladies man. She almost cringed when he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "The years have been kind to you. Please, come in. We have much to discuss."

Hermione followed him rather reluctantly. She didn't want to be in any enclosed space with him. He had always made her skin crawl and the passage of years had done nothing to temper that particular reaction. He just seemed so fake.

She plastered a polite smile on her face and followed him into his office. She was floored by the lavishness of its interior. It was dominated by a huge mahogany desk that sat in the center of the space. She almost snickered when she thought that he might be over-compensating for something else but then steered her thoughts elsewhere. She didn't want to be thinking anything along those lines when it came to Cormac McLaggen, whether it be good or bad.

She took a seat in front of his ostentatious desk and cringed when she heard him ward and lock his office door. She was already behind schedule, thanks to him, and she really couldn't afford to stay any longer than she had to. Kingsley was expecting her report before the end of the day.

"Dr. McLaggen," she began, using his formal title. She hoped to make this quick by appealing to the man's never-ending arrogance. "Thank you for your cooperation in my investigation. The information that Mr. Malfoy has is essential to finding the remaining Death Eater's."

He sat himself behind his desk and appraised her silently for a minute. The hairs rose on the back of her neck as his eyes roved her body. She felt like the prat was undressing her with his eyes; which he more than likely was. He hadn't changed a bit.

She shifted uncomfortably as he smiled salaciously. "Please," his voice husky with barely repressed desire. "Call me Cormac, Hermione. We are school mates after all. A bit more intimately connected than mere acquaintances, are we not?"

Hermione cursed the Minister in her mind. Damn him for asking her to come here and deal with this perverted miscreant. Sure he was attractive, but his personality was abominable. She forced a smile to her face. "Of course, Cormac. Shall we get to it, then?"

He stood and moved around the mammoth desk and hitched his hip to sit casually against its polished marble top in a move that he clearly thought was debonair and compelling. Hermione forced herself to remain still as he leaned over her invading her personal space. She hoped that she wouldn't have to return, but in the event that she had to it would be much easier to be on the good side of Cormac McLaggen. He could make her job far more difficult than it already was.

"I had hoped that we could catch up a bit," he articulated. "It's been years since we've seen each other and I took the liberty of ordering us a light lunch."

Shit.

She could hardly contain her rage. He had some balls; she had to give him that. She was well known for her quick temper, what he was doing could be considered the equivalent of poking a sleeping dragon.

Frowning slightly she answered, "I'm sorry, Cormac. I'm already way behind schedule. The Minister is expecting my report tonight." She said this wistfully and didn't miss his eyes as they narrowed slightly scrutinizing her carefully. "Perhaps another time," she offered.

His eyes roved over her once more. "I'll hold you to that, Hermione. I almost feel like you're trying to avoid me."

"Not at all," she quickly asserted. She swallowed her bile before she posed her next statement, appealing again to his narcissistic tendencies. "After all, it's not every day that a girl gets attention from such an attractive man."

It's a good thing that she hadn't eaten she thought. She just might throw up after saying something so distasteful. But it had the desired effect. Ruffled feathers once again smooth, Cormac unlocked and unwarded his office.

"There are a few rules here in Azkaban," he said as he motioned for her to follow him. "Firstly, I insist on being informed on any progress that is made with Mr. Malfoy. He is my prisoner and I'd appreciate being included in the loop, so to speak."

"Of course," she affirmed. "Kingsley regards you highly and would never dream of withholding information."

They descended the stairs deeper and deeper into the dank prison. The atmosphere got darker and more unsettling the further they went.

"I also must insist that you don't approach the protective barrier. Malfoy can't breach the magically enhanced shield but it is better safe than sorry," he stated matter of factly. "I know that you two have a less than savory past. Personally, I think this idea of Kingsley's is a stroke of genius. He hasn't spoken in years, no matter who has come to interrogate him; not even to myself. But I believe he will open up to you, in some way. Even if it is to hurl insults."

Hermione put her hand on his elbow to stop him as he made to walk down the rest of the way with her. "Cormac," she began softly. "Perhaps it will be best if I go alone. If he shuts down for everyone else, I think I should present myself on my own."

He looked annoyed by the suggestion but he couldn't fault her logic. He'd just told her that Malfoy hadn't spoken to anyone in years.

"Very well," he conceded reluctantly. "I wish you'd have suggested this in my office and saved me the trip."

She smiled broadly and batted her lashes a bit. Now she really wanted to vomit. "But then I would have been denied the pleasure of your company."

He assessed her for another moment and then he turned to address the guard. "Bring her out once she'd done." Then he vanished back up the stairs.

She breathed an inward sigh of relief. Crisis adverted for now. She turned slowly and took a long look at her surroundings. There was a wizard behind a magically reinforced barrier. He had the wands of the two guards on duty in the high security ward. He would be the one who held onto her wand as she questioned Malfoy. The room was a bit small and entirely unremarkable. There was a guard hunched over a high tech surveillance system. It would seem that since the Ministry had sent the dementors packing, they had upgraded to muggle means of watching the prisoners. She watched as the closest screen revealed Cormac running up the stairs.

She turned her eyes to the other guard who was watching her intently. He could have been Hagrid's brother. He was that big. He also seemed to radiate the same kind nature as the big-hearted Gamekeeper.

But unlike Hagrid, this man was clean shaven and sported a much shorter hairstyle.

"Hello Miss Granger," he greeted her politely. "My name is Alden. He told you not to go near the barrier?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "I know the rules."

"Good. You'll have to surrender your wand, I'm afraid." He looked sympathetic as he said this. He knew how much a witch or wizard hated to be denied their magic. "It's for your protection as much as theirs," he explained as she handed over her wand. "There are many that harbor ill will towards these men after the war and all and even though some of them undeniably deserve retribution, we can't condone anyone committing violence against them when they are helpless to defend themselves."

She smiled at the big man. "I understand completely, Alden. The memories from the war are bitter and humanity has a vengeful nature as a species. Perhaps it is better that some of these men are locked away from society. There are far too many that cling to their rancor over the events that transpired during those dark times and it would be far more dangerous for them to be amongst the general populace than it ever will be here."

"Very well spoken, Miss." He complimented as he passed her wand through to the wizard behind the barrier. She watched fascinated as it seemed to sink through the bubble of protection. It was a pretty impressive feat of magic.

He opened the barred door for her to proceed. She walked through and the door shut behind her with a bang as the lock slammed home. She jumped slightly, not expecting the sudden noise.

"Relax," Alden soothed. "I'll be watching and I'm sure you'll do fine. He's in the last cell all the way down. You keep to the right away from the other cells."

She smiled tightly and nodded, her nerves starting to get the better of her. She hadn't had any kind of interaction with Malfoy since the end of the war; the night that Harry, Ron, and her had saved him and Blaise Zabini from the Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement. He couldn't exactly be a prat afterwards. They had just saved his life.

She moved through the next barred door as it slid open automatically. She could see that the prisoners were well guarded. She couldn't see how they could possibly escape from such a place. Without their magic, there would be almost no possibility at all. She took a deep breath as the door clanged closed behind her.

It was now or never.

She walked slowly forward; deliberately. Her steps carried her forward and she couldn't help her morbid curiosity. She glanced at the occupants of each cell she passed, noting who was contained behind the barriers. She noted that some cells had bars while others were a magical barrier that she assumed was similar to the barrier that encased the wizard that guarded the wands.

The first cell held Amycus Carrow. Hermione hadn't had any direct dealings with the man since she'd forgone her final year at Hogwart's to help Harry with his quest to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes. He'd been the Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts that year although he'd changed the class to just The Dark Arts. He'd been a particularly brutal teacher as she'd heard from Neville and Ginny. He'd been finally defeated by Minerva McGonagall in the final battle. This is where he had ended up.

Hermione averted her eyes as he stepped toward the bars.

"Hello, girlie," he taunted. "What a tasty morsel you've become, Mudblood."

Hermione said nothing and continued walking. She wanted no type of interaction with the man. It would only rile him further. She glanced at the next cell, the man sitting in a chair beside his bunk. This cell was encased in a clear bubble. She recognized him as the man that had chased them through the Ministry. Yaxley was his name.

He neither moved nor said anything to her but the look he was giving her was enough to send a chill racing through her and the hairs on her neck to stand on end. She hurried past his cell. She had no doubt that he harbored ill feelings toward her.

She breathed deeply and forced herself to slow down. She was not a coward. And he couldn't hurt her. She walked past the next cell which was another barred affair. She identified the prisoner at once as he paced agitatedly next to the bars.

Rodolphus Lestrange.

The same man that had held her captive during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. She'd been haunted by thoughts of him for months after the incident as she recovered from her injuries sustained by Antonin Dolohov.

She could still feel the hardness of his wand digging callously into her throat even as another part of his body hardened and pressed into the small of her back. She had nightmares for months, dreaming that he hunted her down to reclaim what had been taken from him. She'd been terrified after their capture by the Snatchers that she would be given to him so that he could finish what he started.

She shuddered now as she passed his cell, his voice hissing from the darkness. "I've missed you, Sugar."

She paused a little as his voice washed over her like a cold shower. If there was anything in the world that she feared, it was Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Do you still think about it?" he whispered caustically. "I know I do. I can smell your fear from here and it turns me on. It's too bad that we didn't have more time together back then. The things I could have shown you…"

Hermione propelled herself onward. She had to do this. She could never become an Auror if she allowed herself to be so easily shaken. And right now, she had a job to do. She walked softly as she neared Malfoy's cell, tension coiling in her belly. She wanted to do a good job. She wanted to succeed where others have failed. And quite frankly, she wasn't sure what to expect from the youngest of the Malfoy clan.

She hadn't seen him since his trial. She remembered how he had looked. Haunted. His eyes were empty. His face indifferent. Even as he had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, he never batted an eyelash. It was too bad that Harry's testimony hadn't been enough. She knew that the haughty former Slytherin didn't want to do some of the things that he had to do.

She sort of felt a kinship with her former childhood enemy. They had all done things during the war that they weren't proud of. She herself had killed. She could only wonder what he had done or seen to make him snap the way that he had. The fact that he had killed his own comrades seemed lost to everyone but her. She thought it to be a travesty that he hadn't been seen by a mind healer following his arrest. It was obvious that he had been damaged mentally by Voldemort. Sadly, society didn't feel the need to try to rehabilitate former Death Eaters.

She stepped in front of his cell cautiously. She wasn't sure if he had been informed of her pending visit and she definitely didn't want to startle him. Her concern was unfounded, however; his back was to her.

She took the opportunity to observe him and his surroundings carefully. She noticed that his bed was perfectly made. There wasn't a crease to be found and the scratchy blanket was folded down for a non-existent pillow. His cell was small and incredibly clean. But that was normal. She remembered him to be very fastidious in school.

She turned her eyes to him. She noticed that his hair was longer, brushing against the collar of his black and white striped jumpsuit. He no longer gelled it back to his head, probably due to a lack of access to hair products. Instead it hung naturally, flowing in waves gently passed his ears. It was beautiful actually. But then he always had nice hair.

She watched him for a moment as he seemed to be staring at a drawing on the wall. She looked a little closer and then she realized with a start that it was a sketch of Malfoy Manor. It was unbelievably detailed. She swallowed a lump in her throat as memories from the one night that she had seen Malfoy Manor rose in her mind. Without a doubt, it had been the worst night of her life.

She was unnerved. He was so still as he sat there, it was unnatural. She waited patiently for him to notice her. She didn't want to interrupt him but she was running behind, thanks to Cormac freaking McLaggen. She had to get back to the Ministry tonight.

She cleared her throat nervously. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. May I speak with you?"

She watched nervously as he blinked slowly and turned to face her. It was as if he was coming out of a trance. His eyes were flat grey as he studied her. It was sort of like looking into the eyes of a shark. There was no personality, no emotion, only a predatory darkness exuded from their depths.

She suppressed a shudder as his eyes swept over her calculatingly. He appraised her silently for what seemed like hours. In actuality, it had only been a few seconds. She prayed to every God that was listening that he would speak with her. She'd been given a golden opportunity, a chance to advance beyond her peers. It was what she always strived for. She wanted to be the best at everything.

"Miss Granger," he said finally, his voice rough from disuse. "Or is it Mrs. Weasley now?"

Her lips twitched just a little. He thought she had married Ron. But then that was what everyone had expected, wasn't it? Even the man himself. She could only see him as her brother and nothing more.

"It's still Granger," she answered politely. "Ron and I were not well matched."

He looked at her for a few more minutes before saying cryptically, "It's just as well, Granger. I always thought that you could do better."

She wouldn't have been more surprised if Snape had walked in wearing a frilly, pink dress. Did he just give her a compliment? It was backhanded and seemingly unintentional but it had been a positive assertion of her character. She had to physically remind herself to not stand and gape like a fish. It was plain to see that Draco Malfoy was not the same person that he had been as a boy.

She struggled with what to say in return. She settled with being polite.

"Thank you. Now, may I ask you a few questions?"

His lips twitched as his mouth rose into a smirk. "And under what capacity would you be speaking to me in, Granger?"

Pompous ass.

Some things never change.

She smiled tightly. "It would be official, of course. I'm here on the behalf of the Ministry."

He chuckled. "Of course. Silly me to think that this was simply a social call. Are you an Auror now? May I see your credentials?"

Hermione pulled out her ID and held it up for him to see.

"You're going to have to come a bit closer," he taunted. "I'm afraid my eyesight is failing me in my old age."

She extended her arm away from her body. She nearly shuddered as he leered at her.

"Clooo-ser," his voice sing- songed, sending chills running down her spine.

She walked forward stiffly toward the barrier as he stood and walked forward. It was very unnerving. The barrier that kept him in his cell was completely transparent. It looked as if there was nothing in between them at all. She watched as he read over it carefully. He lifted his head and gazed at her piercingly.

"That expires in one week, Granger. You're not a real auror, are you?" he challenged, winking at her.

She swallowed. Of course he would see through Kingsley's ruse. She decided that honesty would be the best. "No. Not yet anyhow. I'm still in training at the academy."

He looked almost gleeful as he turned around and faced the wall once more. "Kingsley Shacklebolt sent a trainee to me. Granted, he sent the smartest witch since Rowena Ravenclaw, but that doesn't change the fact that you are a recruit."

She stayed silent through his rant. What else could she do? She didn't want to be baited into an argument, which was exactly what she felt like he was trying to do. It would only give him a reason to clam up and refuse to speak to her. She had come this far. He was speaking to her when he hadn't spoken to anyone else.

He turned around once more. Looking at her intensely, his eyes glittering with humor, he spoke again. "He must be very busy indeed if he is recruiting help from the student population? Busy hunting the new terror stalking the wizarding world; the Demonic Dementor. Tell me, Granger, why do they call him that? The Prophet never says."

She stayed still for a moment considering whether she should tell him or not. The details had been kept out of the newspaper on purpose. They didn't want to incite a panic. But she thought it would be fairly safe to tell him. Who could he tell anyway? It might also motivate him to share some information with her. It was what she came for.

She cleared her throat. "It has to do with the manner in which he kills, his M.O. so to speak. He targets muggleborn women and sucks their magic from them. Not only that, but it seems that he sucks out their essence, their very soul, leaving nothing but a dried up husk. It's quite horrific."

His breath hitched as she described the killer's methodology. She got the distinct impression that he knew exactly who the killer was. Which he might. Draco Malfoy had been a Death Eater and his father was Lucius Malfoy. It was likely that he had been around dark characters his whole life.

He studied her for a moment before he spoke again. "Why do you think he removes their magic before he kills them?"

She was livid. How dare he ask that question? They were muggleborns; the answer was obvious. She breathed through her nose deeply trying to calm herself before answering his question.

"You know why, Malfoy." She stared at him through the shield. "Just because the war is over doesn't mean that the prejudice is gone as well. We have not been able to catch everyone from your lot since…"

"My lot!" his voice seethed with anger. "Let's get something straight, Granger. They were never my lot, as you called them. I may have bore that cursed mark but it was never by choice! I was a sixteen year old boy! My entire life was laid out for me! It's funny though, I'm sure my father never counted on the life sentence in Azkaban. The Malfoy name will die with me. I'm sure he'd be rolling in his grave if he knew. But it was all due to his choices or his failures. Did you know, Granger that I was chosen to kill Dumbledore as a punishment to my father? Oh yes, and failure wasn't an option. It meant the death of my entire family. Your side, the side of the so-called Light, never took any of that into bearing! You just tossed me in here and threw away the key! You didn't even take into account what I had done before I was caught! I did you a favor!"

He turned away from her as a tear slipped down her cheek. He was right. This was not justice.

"I know," she whispered.

He was silent for a long minute. "Go back to school, Granger." He never even turned around as he dismissed her.

She straightened herself and turned away. She walked away numbly. She was so close. She neared Lestrange's cell and she heard the man grunting and moaning. She was sickened when she realized he was naked on his cot and he was masturbating. He was mumbling to himself when he suddenly reached out and threw a handful of cum right in her face. She gasped as he started laughing and all the other prisoners started yelling. She heard Malfoy shouting over the din.

"Granger!"

She ran back to his cell. He might have changed his mind.

"I'm sorry, Granger, that shouldn't have happened to you."

She was incredulous. "You called me back to apologize! You didn't do it!" She stared into the icy depths of his eyes trying to decipher just what he was trying to accomplish.

"Yes, but it was rude and uncalled for. Besides, I've changed my mind but I'm also changing the terms. I'll give you something even better. But there is something I want in return. I'll give you access to the Malfoy libraries. I'll give you names and contacts. I'll give you everything I know all in exchange for a new trial. I want access to a mind healer. I want the chance to take the stand in my own defense, I want a fair trial. I want out of the despicable hell-hole. I want far away from Dr. McLaggen and his inane questions."

"I don't have the authority to accept your offer, but I will pass it along." She glanced nervously back down the hall. She would have to go past Lestrange's cell one more time.

"Go, Granger," he whispered. "I don't think he could manage again so quickly, even if he is insane. Go; give my offer to the Minister. I'll help you catch him."

She shook herself free from his enigmatic grey eyes and took off down the hall. She wouldn't give the bastard the time to throw his spunk in her face again. She wanted to scrub her face a million times over. But she had to see the minister first. She had a feeling that this was what he had been after all along. She just wished that she'd been in on it.

End Note: So, what did you think? This was my favorite scene in the movie The silence of the Lambs. I hope I did it justice.


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